


Helping Hand

by taxingme



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: 5 Times, Blow Jobs, Bruise Play, Come Marking, Dick Pics, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fuckbuddies, Light Bondage, Multi, Oral Sex, Phone Sex, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 12:45:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11357787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taxingme/pseuds/taxingme
Summary: “It’s Strome, bro. Dylan Strome.”“Oh. Mitchy’s friend, right,” Auston says. It’s a bit a dick move. Definitely. But there’s no reason for Auston to be nice to his fuckbuddy’s last fuckbuddy. Or whatever the hell he and Mitch were. Mitch never went into detail. Just told him that it happened.“Fuck you. ‘Mitchy’s friend,’” he mocks back at Auston. “You know who I am, asshole. And I know who you are. Obviously. Whatever, the point is – I know how Marns looks at guys he likes. I see how he looks at you.”OR: 5 Tips Dylan Gives Auston + 1 Dylan Shows Him





	Helping Hand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alotofthingsdifferent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alotofthingsdifferent/gifts).



> alotofthingsdifferent - I hope you enjoy this! This story was a bit of a battle (writer's block - such a pain) so I hope it pushes the right buttons for you. It was really hard to make Auston and Dylan hate one another so it's not quite your prompt there but I still hope you love it :)
> 
> There is a much longer version of this story kicking around. Hopefully one day I'll be able to kick my butt into gear and get it all out there. As I said, I had major struggles writing this past month so this was quite a quick edit job so please let me know if you see any errors! Also, not from North America so please let me know if I said anything that doesn't make sense! Kudos and comments are much appreciated <3

      **1\. Bruise Play**

“’lo?” Auston says into the phone. It’s late, later than Auston wants to be awake. He hopes answering this call is worth it.

“You’re already asleep, Matthews? Weak, man,” the other person says. Auston doesn’t recognise his voice. They sound drunk, slurring the words. Canadian, he thinks. He pulls his phone away from his ear and blinks at the caller ID. He doesn’t have the number saved in his phone. Which means he should definitely hang up. This conversation is either going to go bad or really bad. There’s no in between when you don’t know the other person calling. 

“Who is this?” he asks instead of hanging up. He’s curious. He can always get a new phone if he needs to. 

“Pfft, rude. We’ve met before,” the guy says. He sighs before speaking again. Auston still has no idea who it is, can’t recognise the voice anywhere. He should really hang up – this could be some crazy stalker for all he knows. “It’s Strome, bro. Dylan Strome.”

“Oh. Mitchy’s friend, right,” Auston says. It’s a bit a dick move. Definitely. But there’s no reason for Auston to be nice to his fuckbuddy’s last fuckbuddy. Or whatever the hell he and Mitch were. Mitch never went in to detail. Just told him that it happened. 

“Fuck you. ‘Mitchy’s friend,’” he mocks back at Auston. “You know who I am, asshole. And I know who you are. Obviously. Whatever, the point is – I know how Marns looks at guys he likes. I see how he looks at you.”

Strome stumbles over his words, still slurring and obviously drunk. But he also sounds sad. Auston doesn’t care, not really. But it’s one thing to be a dick to a guy and another thing to be totally cruel. Strome is having a pretty shitty year – his best friend is the youngest captain in NHL history and his ex is killing it on their hometown team. Strome couldn’t even make the cut.

“I know how he looks at me too,” Auston says. 

“Good for you, fucker. Bet I still know him better than you,” Strome says. Voice changing – the challenge clear. 

“Look – it is what it is. You don’t get a say.”

Auston wants to be mean. Wants to show this guy that he doesn’t even care, but he can’t. But underneath the challenge Strome still sounds so sad. Like he saw a puppy get kicked. Like nothing good will ever happen to him again. It’s melodramatic. Auston gets it, he’d be the same if it was him. 

“Fine, I don’t matter. But hey, you still want some help? Buddies.”

Auston’s not sure what to say to that. He’s not even sure what Strome is offering. Auston’s not exactly sure what’s happening with him and Mitch, he isn’t sure where they stand. Not sure if it’s fucking or feelings or both or neither. He’s pretty sure he doesn’t need help from Dylan Strome of all people. Part of him is curious. There’s still a challenge in his voice too. Auston can’t say no to that. They’re both competitive guys – they want to win this conversation. 

“Sure,” he says breezy and cool like he doesn’t care. “Bet I already know anyway.”

“Ha! As if, man. Took me ages to figure it out. He’s so pale, yeah?” Strome asks. Waits for Auston to agree before saying anything else. “And he bruises up so well?” He pauses again, waits for Auston again. 

“He likes it if, well. He likes it if you make them hurt a little,” he says, voice faux innocent like those words mean nothing. Auston sucks in a huge breath, surprised and unsure and turned on. Strome chuckles – low and hot and dirty. Auston should hang up. 

“Told ya. Next time you guys fuck, you should think about it. Make them worse, press and pinch ‘em. He’ll go off in two seconds.”

Auston is so hard, zero to a hundred in two sentences. He bites his lip to keep in a gasp. But a noise still escapes, loud and obvious now that Strome has finished talking. And Strome laughs again, that same stupidly hot noise from before. 

“Yeah that’s what I thought. Have a nice night, Matthews.”

Strome hangs up. Auston throws his phone across the bed, spitting into the hand that was holding it. Not the best lube but it’s enough. He wants, needs, to get off. Right fucking now. He jerks off, clean and efficient. Thinks about Mitch – he always thinks about Mitch these days – and the big bruise he has on the inside of his thigh right now. Auston thinks about blowing Mitch, about pressing his fingers into the bruise and the way Mitch might react. He thinks about Strome and Mitch. Together. The two of them figuring out that Mitch gets off on it and – 

Auston comes all over his hand. 

(The next night he tests Strome’s idea on Mitch. Massages his fingers into the purpling bruise on Mitch’s thigh. Mitch gasps and fucks his hips forward. Auston pinches the edges of it and Mitch thrusts forward a couple more times – one, two, three – before finishing down Auston’s throat. Auston pulls back and grins while Mitch comes down with deep, heaving breaths. 

They’re going to have so much fun with this.)

      **2\. Getting off on giving oral**

The next time Strome calls is after World Juniors. Auston knows Mitch reached out to him and didn’t get anything. Knows the same thing happened to Brownie. Auston’s not sure why he’s so special. Not even sure he wants to know.

“What’s up?” he asks, knowing he sounds too gentle. Too supportive, like Strome actually means anything to him. It’s not like what happened actually means anything to Auston. He’s happy USA won, always is. But Strome losing doesn’t matter to him. Not even a little bit. 

“Ah, come on man. Don’t be like that. I called you because I thought you’d be a dick, not like everyone else,” Strome says. 

Auston grits his teeth. He tried being nice but if Strome wants him to be a dick. Auston can be a dick. Strome is no one to Auston; he gave one good sex tip and that’s it. Auston doesn’t owe Dylan Strome shit. 

“Fine. Get the fuck over yourself and call your friends. Silver is better than sixth,” Auston sneers. Auston was actually there for that one. America did better in Helsinki too. Strome only snorts at him. Unimpressed and obviously unwilling to say anything. 

“What do you want me to say? Want me to give you a literal fucking play by play of how you stuffed up in every game?”

“Maybe. I don’t fucking know,” Strome grumbles. “You’d know better than me. You apparently can’t fuck up ever.”

“Jesus Christ, dude. Grow up. Your life is fucking fine – name one shitty thing that isn’t to do with hockey,” he says. He’s not even angry. Barely even annoyed because Strome seems to need this. Needs someone to pull him the fuck out of his head. 

“Mitch dumped me. That’s pretty shitty,” Strome says. Auston scoffs. Mitch told him what happened. Hard to dump someone you’re not even dating. He says as much. “Mitch is pretty shitty at committing, man. He was happy fucking but as soon as he realised I wanted more he backed out.”

Auston’s stomach falls, an anvil squashes his heart. He and Mitch started their, _thing_ , back at the start of the season. Too much adrenaline and nothing to do with it after games. Auston’s been wanting more than that for a while now. He has all these feelings. He likes Mitch; likes his smile, how enthusiastic he is, the way he always knows the right thing to say. It’s lame and embarrassing but Auston has the biggest crush in the world. Butterflies fill his stomach whenever Mitch so much as smiles at him. But Mitch never wants to talk about. Only ever gives Auston a fist bump after they hook up. 

Auston says nothing. 

“Yeah, you get it,” Strome says. Serious and sad at the same time. Unrequited love is a bit like that. “He does that to people. Makes them fall in love with him without realising it. We were, fuck, we were pretty much dating. Everyone called me his boyfriend, even his parents. So I asked him, just to check. And he shut me down cold.”

“Then he didn’t really dump you then, did he?” Auston winces as he says it. It’s easy to be a dick when you don’t want people to know how you feel. How Auston feels is none of Strome’s business.

“Of, fuck you too. You weren’t there – he knew what he was doing. Any besides, we haven’t spoken since. Sounds like a break up to me,” Strome says. 

“Whatever. Still don’t get why you’re calling me,” Auston says. Definitely trying to change the subject. He doesn’t want to think about this anymore. Just because Mitch was shitty to Strome doesn’t mean he will be to Auston. What they have is different. 

“I don’t know. Everyone, is, being so careful with me. Like I’m going to break or some shit, Wanted something a little different for a change,” Strome says. Auston’s not too sure what to say back to him. That’s, not the reason he expected. That’s almost mature. 

“But anyway, how’d the bruises tip go, eh?” Strome asks, making Auston choke on his spit. Whoever said Canadians are repressed needs to meet the guys who come out of juniors. None of them have any shame. None at all. Strome laughs, so close and still so far from the low, hot sound from last time. “Told you he liked it.”

Auston can only grumble in response. No real words. So Strome had one hot tip, so what? Auston knows what works for Mitch without his help. Even if the bruises thing has improved their sex life tenfold. 

“You want another?”

Auston can _hear_ his smirk over the phone. Self-satisfied prick. Fuck this guy. “I don’t need them, asshole. You want one?”

“Me? Nah, dude. I’m not fucking him anymore – that’s all on you,” Strome says. Auston adjusts his dick in his pants. He’s nineteen. Talking about is always going to get him a little hard. And Strome has a nice voice. There’s something about it that fucking works for Auston. 

“Fine. Gimme your best.”

“So, blowjobs,” Strome starts and Auston can’t help rudely interrupting him – 

“All guys like blowjobs, dickhead. Real hot tip there.”

Strome chokes on a noise that might be a laugh. Auston grins, pleased with himself and the reaction. 

“Yeah, but you ever noticed how much Mitch likes giving them?”

“Huh,” is all Auston can say. Because now that he thinks about it? Mitch loves giving head. He’s always eager to get down, licking his lips and looking up at Auston under his eyelashes with a sly grin. The look itself is almost enough to get Auston off. It’s always so full of promise. Straight from porn. Mitch is always hard once he gets Auston off, once – he even came while he was on his knees (it had been more than a week, it barely even counts after that long). 

“Right? Took me ages to figure that one out too. He gets off on it so bad, if you like, kinda talk to him a bit, while he’s down there. Fuck his mouth, too. And pull on his hair and shit, ah. He loves it,” Strome says, sounding out of breath. Distracted too, like he’s focussing on something else and –

“Are you jerking off?”

“Duh. You’re not?”

“What the fuck? No,” Auston says. As indignant as he can be, considering he’s palming over his (very) hard dick in his pants. He was going to wait until after they hung up. It’s only polite. 

“Fine, whatever. Just remember – he really fucking likes it.”

The call disconnects. Auston shoots an unimpressed look at his phone, not that Strome can see it before throwing it aside. He reaches into his pants properly, not even bothering with spit. He pictures Mitch on his knees, jerking it while he sucks Auston off. Mitch letting Auston tangle his fingers in Auston’s hair. He’s on the edge when the image changes – different hands in Mitch’s hair, a different dick in his mouth. Just like last time, Auston comes thinking about the two of them together. 

“Fuck,” he says to himself as he cleans up. This needs to stop. Whatever the hell it is. He’s still going to try it with Mitch. Nothing wrong with that. 

      **3\. Rimming**

“He really likes rimming.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Don’t you know how to start a normal conversation?” Auston asks, glancing around the locker room to make sure no one heard. Both Connors look like they’re trying not to laugh at him (and failing) but they don’t look like they actually heard. Thank fuck. Auston didn’t even look to see who was calling. Nine times out of ten it’s his mum. Not this time. Fucking Dylan Strome. 

“What? I’ve been thinking about it,” Strome says. He has the audacity to sound indignant, like Auston is the one overreacting right now. Asshole.

“Well I haven’t,” Auston says, huffy and annoyed. Talking to Strome isn’t bad, not exactly. But it is ridiculous and shit keeps happening that Auston doesn’t want. “You’re a fucking mess, I’ll call you back later.”

He hears Strome laughing at him before he can end the call. Idiot. He throws Mitch a quick glance before getting his shit ready and getting out of the room. They have plans to meet later, after the game. Depends on if they win, if they’ll fuck or hang out. Auston doesn’t care – he cares about winning, just, not about what he and Mitch do – either way. As long as he gets to see Mitch. As sappy and pathetic as that is. 

Auston calls Strome back as soon as he’s in his room. Door locked firmly behind him and the TV on loud to make sure his dad won’t interrupt. His mum walked in on him jerking off last year in Switzerland and, well. Once was enough. 

“Hit ‘em with the four returns – ‘sup?” Strome answers.

“Fuck off,” Auston says, rolling his eyes. He gets enough shit from Mitch without Strome starting too. Not that Strome and Mitch are the same; or that Auston thinks about them the same way. Totally different. “You really don’t know how to start a conversation, do you?”

“What?” Dylan asks, same pretend innocent voice from before. “You didn’t like what I said earlier?”

“I was in the fucking locker room, man. You’re so lucky no one heard,” Auston says. Ignoring the huff he hears from Strome, Auston continues: “And you’re not even right. We tried it, neither of us liked it. Especially not him.”

Auston thinks about the one time they tried – the way he’d settled awkwardly on his hands and knees while Mitch leaned in behind him. The dirty, uncomfortable feeling of Mitch’s tongue at his entrance. His spit dripping down and cooling over Auston’s balls. Mitch was the one who stopped it. Thankfully. Auston made Mitch wash his mouth out before they did anything else. It was the opposite of fun. 

“No way. Were you doing it wrong?” Dylan asks, laughing as he says it. Auston squawks in outrage. The fucking nerve of this guy. 

“No! Is there a wrong way to even receive a rim job?” Auston asks, voice trailing off as he talks. His cheeks flush. It’s one thing to try it, another thing to actually say the words ‘rim job.’ Auston’s never even said them before. It’s not even something he’s heard in the locker room. For all the filth hockey guys talk, none of them have ever mentioned that. 

“Fuckin’ moron, of course there isn’t. But – ask Mitch, he’s the one who likes them,” Dylan says. Auston can imagine the sly grin on his face. Fucker. Then his mind catches up to what Dylan said. And, oh. Heat rushes back to his face. He’s never even thought about. Well, that. 

“Well, uh, I’ve never done that. There’s definitely a wrong way to do that, yeah?”

“You serious right now?” Strome asks.

“Weird thing to lie about, bud,” Auston says. He knows that’s not what Strome’s asking. Auston’s not an idiot. He knows what he just said is an invitation for phone sex. And yeah, he’s serious. Why the fuck not?

“You know what I meant,” Strome says sounding more serious than he ever has before. Auston gets it. This is a big deal. This isn’t jerking off because you’re talking about sex. This is deliberate. Auston wants it. It’s messy and weird and tied up in Mitch but, Auston wants this. He hopes Dylan does too. 

“Yes,” Auston says. It’s all he says. It has to be enough, Strome has to get it. 

“Shit, okay. Yeah – I can. We can do that. Gimme a minute here,” Dylan says. Auston breathes out a sigh of relief. Glad that he doesn’t have to explain it anymore. Auston gets naked while he waits for Strome to come back. Spits into his hand and starts stroking. He’s already so hard. Just thinking about it. He’s not sure what has him so hot and bothered – thinking about eating Mitch out, or Strome telling him how to do it. Auston shudders, fucking up into his fist. 

“Back,” Dylan says. Pauses. Neither of them speak for a moment. “So, uh, I always used to get him hard first. Would blow him till he was begging for it then –“ Dylan swallows “–Then I would turn him over, get him on all fours. Think you can handle that?”

“Of course I can,” Auston says. Cocky and arrogant, nothing like he actually feels. He’s so close to coming and Strome isn’t even at the good part yet. But his sex voice is ridiculous. Deep and rich and so fucking sexy. Auston groans, this is all too much. 

“Just checking. But anyway – Mitch on all fours and here’s where it gets hard – ha – you can’t just go for it. He’s real sensitive.”

“Fuck,” Auston interrupts. He can’t stop himself, this is so fucking hot. Auston wants this so bad. 

“I know right? And you’re just hearing about it – imagine doing it,” Dylan says. Auston groans, writhing on the bed and sliding his hand up and down his dick. “When you do, you have to start small. And Slow, little licks. Kiss him, get him fucking wet.”

“Shit, shit, shit. This is so fucking hot,” Auston whines. “When can he take more?” 

“You’ll know, be able to feel it. And he’ll start begging, asking for more. You can get him so fucking wet and then you can just, fuck. Push in, lick into him,” Dylan says, panting. They both gasp. Auston curses under his breath. He’s so fucking close. He doesn’t realise he’s said anything until Strome answers him.

“Yeah, yeah. Fuck, me too. Soon,” he says. 

“Tell me how much Mitchy likes it. Tell me,” Auston says.

Dylan makes a noise that sounds like it hurts. Like it was punched out of him. Like he can’t stop himself and he needs to come. Right now. Auston makes his own noise. Desperate and ready and so fucking keen. Heneeds to hear what Mitch likes. What Auston can try next time. 

“Once, shit. Once he came from it. One finger and my tongue inside him, nothing else. He came so fucking hard. All over himself and then I, shit – I’m gonna,” Dylan says, cutting himself off as he groans and obviously comes. Fucker. Auston strokes himself faster, tries to get himself there. But he can’t not without Strome talking to him. Auston grunts in frustration, hoping Strome hears him. 

He wants to come too dammit. 

“Sorry, fuck. I couldn’t stop myself. You want more?”

“Yes,” Auston says, gritting his teeth. Dylan laughs, bright and happy and Auston feels something lift inside him. He pushes the feeling away. Focusses everything he has on coming as soon as possible. 

“Now, where was I?”

“Fuck off, you fucking asshole,” Auston says, gulping and taking deep breaths between each word. 

“Fine, I fucked him. After he came. Opened him up properly and went for it. He was so keen for it. And he looked so good, covered in his own come as I fucked him. It was almost too much, you know? But I got him there again,” Dylan says. 

Auston moans, pumps his hand over his dick faster and faster. He just needs – 

“Bet you couldn’t do that.”

And Auston comes all over himself. Long stripes that he can feel all over his chest. Auston comes down in silence, neither of them saying anything. He cleans himself up and says goodbye. Doesn’t wait for Dylan to answer before hanging up. They’re so fucked up. Not even about one another. No. It’s all for Mitch and he doesn’t even know.

      **4\. Bondage**

Things get, weird, after the call. Strome – _Dylan_ ¬ – starts texting him all the time. About anything and everything – his 300th point, making the playoffs, the weird thing his sink is doing. It’s weird and a lot. Auston’s not sure what to do with it. He’s not sure what any of it means. Auston’s not sure if Dylan wants to be his friend or something more. Auston’s not sure if he’s fucking it all up by even talking to Dylan.

Because things are weird with Mitch, too. Before, he used to leave straight after, fist bumping Auston on his way out. Now, he sticks around. Snuggles up under Auston’s arm and looks at his phone. Auston’s breath catches every time. Unsure of what’s okay. How much affection he can give before Mitch pulls away and leaves. 

That’s what they’re doing now, coming down together on Auston’s bed. Auston’s trying to decide if he wants to push for a third round. His dad won’t be home for ages. They have time. For now, Auston relaxes into his pillows. Mitch is curled into his side, head resting on Auston’s shoulder and his leg thrown across Auston’s naked thighs. It’s wonderful. 

Auston can’t feel his arm and he doesn’t even care. Auston balls his hand into a fist and then relaxes them. Carefully, oh so carefully, places his hand on Mitch’s hip. Mitch is so pale. Auston’s hand stands out, his fingers shaking against the skin. Mitch makes a happy noise, content. Auston breathes out a sigh of relief. He can do this. He’s actually going to ask him, find out for real what Mitch wants. If he really wants Auston. 

He opens his mouth, ready to finally ask when his phone goes off. Auston glances at it and it is Dylan.

_U busy_

Auston types, one-handed and slow, _with Marns_. He feels weird bringing Mitch up between them. They haven’t spoken about him since, well. Since the whole rimming conversation (which, really, Auston needs to thank him for that – Mitch fucking love it). Dylan doesn’t answer for a moment and Auston worries he’s screwed everything up. As much as he wants Mitch, he doesn’t want to lose Dylan. There’s something about him. Auston can’t say no. 

Dylan – little shit that he is – fills a message with the eggplant emoji. Auston rolls his eyes, not bothering to answer. Dylan doesn’t deserve an answer. 

“Who are you texting?” Mitch says and Auston startles. He almost forgot. Mitch can be quiet when he wants to be. 

“Zach. Nothing important,” he says. It’s only a white lie – neither of them will ever find out, he thinks. His phone goes off again. 

_Want another tip?_

Auston reads it. Glances at Mitch. Reads it again. Fuck, he thinks. Auston forces his mind blank when he answers. One word. Looks back at Mitch as he waits for an answer. He would do anything for him. Anything at all, if only Mitch would ask. His phone goes off, four messages coming in at once. The tone beeps over itself and sounds wrong. Weird like this whole situation. Auston’s too scared to look at it. 

“Jeez, nothing important, eh? Why he gotta send ten messages in one second then?” Mitch laughs as he talks, amused at himself more than anything else. Auston wishes it wasn’t endearing. Wishes he could look at Mitch and only think ‘dickhead.’ Not sappy shit like ‘I want to run my fingers through his hair’ and ‘I hope he lets me kiss that smile off his face.’ Auston slides open his phone. He reads the messages; heat floods his face and blood rushes to his dick. 

_He likes being tied up_

_Tie his hands together and fuck him_

_Or tie him to the bed_

_He fucking loves it, trust me_

“Can I tie you up?” Auston blurts out. Mitch sits up, back unnaturally straight. Turns to look at Auston. Auston closes his eyes, embarrassed and ashamed and not even sure what just happened. Dylan fucking Strome. 

“What?”

“I, shit. I dunno. You like it when I hold your wrists and shit. I just thought,” Auston stumbles and stutters over his words. Tongue too heavy in his mouth. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter. I’ll – go? Yeah, I’ll leave.”

Auston goes to sit up. Gets halfway there before Mitch clambers over him, settling his ass above Auston’s half-hard cock. It twitches, still too interested. Mitch places a hand over Auston’s heart. Rubs his fingers into Auston’s nipple. Auston can’t help moaning. The room fizzles with tension, sudden and explosive. 

“I was just surprised. You don’t have to leave,” Mitch says. He looks, not unhappy. Surprised and confused. Unsure, Auston thinks. Auston shrugs, uncomfortable with the scrutiny. They never look at each other like this. “I want to,” – Auston can’t help the grin that spreads across his face – “But Auston. That’s a lot of trust. That’s not buddies.”

“Oh. Wait – does that? Does that mean you want,” Auston swallows around the rest of the sentence. Unable to finish it. His heart soars in his chest. He feels like he’s flying – he feels like he’s in love.

“Yeah, Yeah. I want – everything. Whatever you’ll give me,” Mitch says. 

They’re both still and silent. For a moment, then. The damn bursts, they surge towards one another. So quick and intense their noses bump against one another and their teeth click together awkwardly. It’s the worst kiss they’ve ever shared. Auston loves it. Eventually they get it right again – the kiss turns intense. Wet and hot and dirty all over again. 

Auston’s so glad they’re already naked. They fuck like this. Auston reaches blindly for the tie he always has on his bedside table. Gets Mitch to lean forward, face in Auston’s neck, and ties his hands band his back. Opens Mitch up again, slower than he needs too, until Mitch is thrusting down against Auston’s stomach. Begging to be fucked. The both cry out when Auston gets his dick inside. It’s too much and not enough and Mitch looks so good like this. Eyes glazed over and desperate as he grinds down onto Auston’s dick. 

They come like that too. It would be embarrassing how quick he gets there, but Mitch is right behind him. Coming between their bodies as soon as Auston gets a hand on him. It’s so fucking hot. Auston wishes he could go again, wishes he knew how hot this would make Mitch a couple of hours ago. Auston unties Mitch, massages the red marks on his wrists. Worries that it was too tight for him. 

“’m okay. Don’t worry about me,” Mitch says. Weak and tired sounding. Auston worries. “Need to nap and I’ll be fine.” 

“You can’t drive like this,” Auston says.

“Duh,” Mitch says. “I’m going to nap with my boyfriend.” Auston blinks in surprise. His heart soaring more than it was before. You tie a guy up one time. 

“Okay. I want to nap with my boyfriend too.”

Mitch hums as he curls further into the bed, burying himself beneath the blankets. It’s cute. Auston writes a quick text before he cuddles into Mitch. Happy to be the big spoon as long he has Mitch here. His _boyfriend_. The message is simple, one word and nothing close to enough: _Thanks_. Auston’s been confused about Dylan for a while now. But he knows he can’t have both. And now he has Mitch, for real. Mitch has to be enough.

      **5\. Dick pics**

The Leafs take it to six games, putting everything they have into it. But they still can’t win, not when it counts. Auston’s calm in the locker room after – looking around at all the guys, breathing in the loss and the team and everything. It’s been a long season. The ending sucks but Auston needs the break. Wants to go home and rest. See his mum for real.

It’s easy to say no to Worlds. Mitch doesn’t say no. 

They only have a couple of days together before they both leave Toronto. They’re in Mitch’s room, chewing on snacks while they look at their phones. Auston loves it. It’s boring and domestic and Auston lives for it. He reaches out and plays with Mitch’s fingers. Interlocking their hands just to look at the colour difference. To remind himself that he can. Mitch smiles at him, soft and sappy. He’s never been happier. 

Auston stops thinking about Mitch leaving. Focusses on spending time together today, thinking about what he’s going to do with his family when he gets home. How hot the desert will be. Thinks about what Auston and Mitch can do with their last night. Tonight. Auston has plans. He waits for Mitch’s mum to knock on the door and spend 20 minutes finalising their plans before reminding Mitch she’ll be out late. Auston ignores her knowing smile. 

“You wanna?” Auston asks. Zero chill. It’s okay – he has Mitch now. He doesn’t have to pretend to be less interested than he is. Mitch already knows how much he wants to fuck. Mitch nods, just as eager. “Get naked. And on your knees for me?” 

They’re still new at this shit. Figuring out what actually works for them, what doesn’t. But Auston knows Mitch loves giving blowjobs, loves being on his knees for Auston. Mitch leans over first, presses their lips together quickly before sliding off the bed. As he gets undressed, Auston leans into the drawer. Pulls out the tie Mitch keeps there now. When he turns back around, Mitch is already on the floor. Ready for whatever Auston wants.

Auston bends down, rearranges Mitch’s hands behind his back. Loops the tie around them and trusses them together. They need to buy real rope, try this properly but neither of them are willing to walk into a sex shop in Toronto. Neither of them want to be seen. Auston checks in with Mitch – makes sure he’s still comfortable like this. 

“All good, babe. Do what you want with me,” Mitch says, sly grin in place. Auston hisses between his teeth. Mitch knows what he’s doing, trying to provoke Auston into moving this quicker. He starts to respond when his phone goes off. Just a text. Smirking at Mitch, Auston picks it up. It’s Dylan. Auston swallows nervously. They haven’t been talking much recently – Dylan still deep in the playoffs and Auston distracted with Mitch. 

Auston still hasn’t told Dylan. Auston doesn’t want to fuck up what he has with Mitch. But, he also doesn’t want to lose Dylan. It’s complicated. Auston hates dealing with feelings. His minds blanks when he opens the message. It’s a picture – a fucking good picture – of Dylan’s dick. Auston swallows around the saliva building in his mouth. Now is so not the time. 

“Who is it?” Mitch asks.

“Nobody,” Auston says. Too quick and too obvious.

_Been a while – u keen?_

Auston sits on the edge of the bed, in front of Mitch. Where he wants to be. Puts his phone down on the bed and leans down to kiss him. Sweet and tender, a counterpoint to the fact that Mitch’s hands are tied behind his back. Auston doesn’t care. He needs this right now. The picture’s distracting, to say the least. Auston’s not sure what he wants. Mitch pulls back, abrupt. 

“Auston. Why the fuck do you have a picture of Stromer’s dick?”

“What? I don’t,” Auston says on instinct, before what Mitch actually said kicks in. He looks down at his phone. There’s no denying this. “Fuck, _fuck_. Oh my God – please don’t hate me.”

Auston’s frantic, unsure what to do. How to defend himself. He runs his fingers through his own hair, wanting nothing more than to go back to ten minutes ago. To make matters worse his phone goes off again. The last nail in a very incriminating coffin.

_Did I ever tell you how much Mitch likes sexting?_

“Call him. Call him right the fuck now,” Mitch says as he reads the text. He sounds calm as he talks. Auston hits dial and puts it on loudspeaker. He can’t tell if Mitch is actually calm. Or if he’s just hiding the anger and the hurt until he can yell at both of them at the same time. 

“Do you want me to, uh, untie you?” Auston asks, trying to be polite. Mitch only glares at him. Dylan picks up. 

“Thank fuck. Was starting to think you were gonna blue ball me.”

“Stromer, why the fuck are you sexting my boyfriend?” 

There’s silence on the other end. Silence in the room too. Auston has no idea what to say or do right now. Talk about uncharted territory. Mitch is still on his knees, tied up; Dylan is hard, possibly still has his hand around his dick like in the photo; Auston is sitting on the bed, somewhere between the two of them. He is so fucked. 

“I didn’t know he was your boyfriend,” is what Dylan eventually says. 

“Are you – What the fuck, guys? Explain. Right fucking now,” Mitch says. An angry glint in his eye as he stares at Auston. Dylan starts to say something or so Auston thinks. But Auston gets there first. He tells Mitch everything. Everything he can think of, the whole ugly truth. His mouth and throat are dry by the time he finishes. He desperately wants a drink but he doesn’t want to move. Can’t, not until Mitch says something. 

“Will you, fuck. Will you untie me?”

“Holy shit, are you guys?” Dylan says over the phone, too breathless and too excited to be anything other than turned on. Auston rolls his eyes. Way to seem desperate, pal. 

“Well, we were. And then my boyfriend’s side piece sent him a fucking picture of his dick. And now we have to talk about it,” Mitch says. Sharp and angry, as he should be. 

“Side pi – I’m not his side piece, you asshole. You weren’t dating and I just, fuck this is embarrassing,” Dylan says, tinny and distant like he’s moving the phone away from his face. Steeling himself to say whatever he wants to say. “I’m lonely. And Auston is the closest thing to you.”

“Oh,” Mitch and Auston say at the same time. 

Then none of them say anything. Mitch is still on his knees, still has his hands behind his back. Auston is meant to be untying him but Mitch only asked once. And he never pushed it. And now, Auston swallows, now they’re right up against something. The three of them. Standing on the edge of a precipice. One of them has to take the leap. 

“We could,” Auston says. Looks into Mitch’s eye and says. “All three of us?” Auston looks away first, focussing on the ketchup stain on Mitch’s bedspread. 

“Well, I did say Mitch loves sexting,” Dylan drawls. Auston shivers. Sees Mitch do the same out of the corner of his eye. Apparently neither of them can so no to him. The same way Auston and Dylan can’t say no to Mitch. “He always loved my pictures. What – you get a two second glance at that picture and knew it was mine, Mitchy?”

Mitch nods, seeming to forget that Dylan isn’t actually in the room with them. His dick is hard. Flush against his stomach. Auston is hard as well, balls tight in anticipation. Auston wants this so bad. Wants Mitch’s mouth on his dick, wants Dylan’s voice in the air. Wants to come. 

“I wanna see you guys,” Dylan says. “Please.”

Auston groans. Fumbles with his phone to get the camera open. He takes a picture – blurry and useless. He deletes it. Has a better idea. “Come on, Mitchy,” he says. Mitch pants, wet and hot against Auston’s thigh before mouthing at Auston’s cock. Like this, Auston has a perfect view of his restrained hands. It’s almost too much. Or just enough.

Auston lets himself sink into the blowjob. Tangles his fingers in Mitch’s hair and gently thrusts into his mouth. Embraces the wet, hot heat of it. Mitch moans and the vibrations are too much. Shit, he thinks. Rushing to start the video in time. It’s not long, only long enough for Dylan to see everything. See the way Auston’s fingers are gripping Mitch’s hair, holding him in place; see how hard Auston is thrusting into his mouth; see how well Mitch is taking it. Auston chokes on a noise and comes down Mitch’s throat. Sends the video as soon as he comes down. Chest still heaving. 

“Ho-oly shit. Holy fuckin’, you two looks so hot. I’m gonna,” Dylan says, groaning as he comes. Auston slides down and off the bed. Wraps his hand around Mitch’s cock. Kissing along Mitch’s neck, doing everything in his power to get Mitch to come. “You getting Mitch off? Being a good boyfriend?” 

Mitch moans and comes all over himself as soon as Dylan starts talking. Easy as. Maybe that’s what Auston should have been doing all along. Apparently Mitch’s biggest kink is Dylan fucking Strome. Unbelievable. 

“Well, that was fun, eh?” Dylan says. 

“Fucking shut up, Stromer. Jesus,” is all Mitch says. 

It’s all any of them say, for a while. Mitch and Auston get dressed in silence, barely even looking at one another. Dylan is the first to talk again. Narrating the whole time as he gets dressed, finds a snack, lays back in bed. Mitch and Auston share a smile. Dylan is always going to be Dylan. 

“We need to talk,” Auston says. Mitch nods. 

“Well, duh. But I can’t, not yet. Not until after,” Dylan pauses. Obvious even over the phone. “Until I’m free, I guess. Late summer?”

“Arizona?” Mitch suggests. Auston thinks about it. What Arizona means to him, what it means to Dylan. How it means almost nothing to Mitch. 

“Arizona,” Auston agrees. 

      **+1. Coming on each other**

Mitch loses first. A shitty shootout, full circle in the story of him and Dylan. Dylan loses next. Auston’s breath catches when he sees the score. Worry shooting through his heart. _What if Dylan doesn’t want this anymore?_ They’ve all been taking things easy since last time. Talking every now and again. They have a group chat. It’s not everything. But it’s enough for now.

Auston shouldn’t have worried. 

The three of them meet up before dev camp starts for Dylan. The Yotes set him up in apartment. Auston wants to take full advantage of their own space, as soon as they can. Auston picks Mitch up from the airport, following the GPS to Dylan’s place. They make small talk in the car. Auston’s too nervous for anything else, not sure what to say to him. Auston’s not even sure where they stand right now. They never broke up. But Dylan isn’t nothing to them. 

They so need to talk about this. 

The conversation is stilted and awkward. All of them unsure and uncomfortable talking about their feelings. It takes them an hour of mostly silence to get anywhere close to a beginning point. They all want this, together. Whatever that means. 

“Can’t we, just, I don’t know. Wing it. Talk when we need to do,” Dylan says. 

“We can’t even talk right now,” Auston says. “How are we meant to do it when we need to?”

They go back to silence. Auston keeps looking at them both then at the ground. He’s too chicken shit to look either of them in the eyes for real. It helps knowing that both of them feel the same. They don’t know what they’re doing. 

“Look – I know I want this. And I know you both want this. That’s all I need to know,” Mitch says after a while. “I think Dyls is right. We’ll just have to talk when we need to.”

Dylan smirks. Smug and triumphant and impossibly attractive. Auston hates how his dick stirs in his pants. Mitch looks more tentative. Smiling but still not sure. There are so many ways they can screw this up. Auston breathes in. Breaths out, pushing all of his confusion and fear out too. They’re going to be fine. He nods in agreement. 

“Cool – can we fuck now?” Dylan asks, shit eating grin spreading wide across his face. Mitch punches his shoulder, fake annoyed and Auston bites back a laugh. “Hey, I’m serious. I have one last thing I want to share with Auston. Show him.”

Auston coughs, mouth suddenly dry. Mitch looks interested. Auston’s dick twitches, there’s no way he’s going to say no to that. He nods. Dylan grins, dirty and hot and everything Auston imagined when they were doing this over the phone. 

“Bedroom,” one of them says. Auston’s not even sure right now. He can barely wait. They all get naked in the bedroom, undressing as quickly as they know how. It becomes a competition – because of course it does – to see who can get naked quickest. Mitch quips that he’ll blow whoever wins first. Dylan wins (only barely, Auston thinks bitterly) and gets Mitch on his knees next to the bed. Auston’s struck watching as Mitch starts. Dylan’s eyes flutter closed and Mitch looks so content. Auston can’t believe they ever thought they would be good without one another.

Auston wraps his fingers around his dick. Stroking as he watches. It’s real life porn in front of his eyes. Of course he’s jerking off. They look so good together. Auston moans. He’s not going to last long at all. 

“Get over here, Matthews,” Dylan says. Auston trips over his own feet, trying to get there as quickly as possible. Dylan smirks then loses it to a groan, pushing his hips into Mitch’s face. They both know he can take it. Auston looks down at Mitch when he’s side by side with Dylan. He looks up at them from under his eyelashes, deliberately hollowing his cheeks around Dylan’s dick. Auston groans, tipping his head into the crook of Dylan’s neck.

He is officially ruined for sex. Nothing will ever be as good as this. 

“My last tip? He loves it when you come on his face,” Dylan says. Mitch makes an indignant noise. Muffled because his mouth is still full. “Don’t even, bro. I know you do. And we all know just how much you love sucking cock. So, uh _fuck_ – you are so fucking good at this. Suck us both off and we’ll both come on your face.”

Auston gasps. Jerks himself faster. He’s not going to last that long. Says as much to the both of them. 

“Weak effort. Fine, you can just jerk off on his face. Watch him come with our mess all over him.”

Mitch chokes on Dylan’s dick. Pulls back and sucks in a deep breath. Dylan cradles his face, soft counterpoint to well, everything else he’s doing right now. It’s intimate to watch. More than the blowjob itself. Auston blushes, heat rushing to his face. Thinking about Dylan holding his own face like that. Auston shakes the thought away – he can think about that some other time. 

Mitch goes back to sucking Dylan’s dick. And Auston strokes himself faster, tries to watch at the same time. He’s so close. He lifts his head, makes eye contact with Dylan. A beat passes and then they’re making out. Trading sloppy kisses that light a fire in Auston. 

“Close, close – I’m so close,” Auston says as he pulls away. Looks into Dylan’s eyes, sees the same desperation he can feel coursing through his veins. Auston looks down at Mitch – watches him suck on Dylan’s dick as he fists his own. Hand moving so quickly it’s a blur. It’s too much, Auston comes in long stripes all over Mitch’s face and Dylan’s cock. He watches for as long as he can. Watches Mitch’s eyelids flutter and the way he so clearly _wants_. 

Dylan comes next. He pulls out of Mitch’s mouth as Auston starts sucking a mark onto his neck. Comes and makes even more of a mess on Mitch’s face. Mitch pants through it, face contorting and oh – he’s coming too. Auston can’t think. His brain wipes out. Ruined for sex. 

Forever.

The three of them clean up, trading kisses and touches as they settle into the bed. It’s a tight fit – Mitch is the smallest and he’s still bigger than most guys. Auston sighs, content and settled between the two of them. He has no idea what’s going to happen in the future. But he can worry about that some other time. He falls asleep happy, trading kisses with his two favourite people.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a hockey tumblr that I'll add after author reveals!


End file.
